Page 9

The man was devastatingly handsome. His tall frame moved with such effortless grace on the dance floor that I could tell he was no stranger to bar dancing. But it wasn’t just his skill that drew me in. It was his energy. A magnetic charm that completely countered everything I’d come to expect in the city.

It took every ounce of willpower I had to resist the urge to fall to my knees when he turned those sharp blue eyes on me. It was like staring into the clearest water in the Caribbean—if I looked long enough, I was sure I’d get lost in the whirlpool.

And don’t even get me started on the way the gray strands of hair framed his rugged features. If I thought about him any longer, I’d melt into a puddle of lust right here on this expensive floor.

Then came the hottest hookup of my life. I’d never done it in the back of a lifted truck before, but good grief, did it add to the appeal. Just thinking about it made my cheeks flush.

But it had been more than that. The change in pace, being in a place I knew was only temporary—both played into the decision to step out of character. The New York City version of me was stern, collected, and in charge, but being in the open Montana air brought on a sense of repose I hadn’t felt in a while.

I shook myself out of the memory, determined to refocus. Steeling myself, I greeted the receptionist standing behind the front desk.

“Hi, my name is Eleanor Stewartt. I’m here from BuzzBurst Media.” I offered her a polite smile and handed over my ID.

“Welcome, Miss Stewartt.” Her name tag read McKenna, and she returned my smile as she typed into the computer. “Let me check our log and get you checked in.”

While McKenna worked, I took another glance around the stunning space, allowing myself a moment to soak it all in. Then came the faint hum of hesitation from the other side of the counter.

“It doesn’t look like we have anyone by that name booked here,” McKenna said, her tone polite but uncertain. She handed my ID back with a small, apologetic smile. “Are you sure it was this location?”

“Yes,” I said quickly, pulling out my phone to double-check the itinerary Stan had sent. “This is Stone Ranch, Lucky Lake, Montana.” I scrolled through the email, and my stomach sank. The reservation was still under Stan’s name. I closed my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m sorry,” I began, forcing calm into my tone. “It looks like my employee never updated the reservation.” Despite checking with Stan multiple times to ensure it had been corrected, here we were. “What about Stan Bishop? Is there a reservation under that name?”

McKenna’s tight smile warned me before she spoke. “Unfortunately, since Mr. Bishop isn’t here, I can’t confirm or deny if there’s a reservation under that name.”

My patience frayed at the edges. “I’m here for work. I’m working with Colton Stone and his ranch. Can’t you call him to confirm?”

“I’m sorry,” McKenna said, sweet but firm. “Mr. Stone is unable to be contacted.”

I groaned, tilting my head back in exasperation. My frustration wasn’t with McKenna. She was just doing her job. This mess was on my agency. I held my team to a high standard, and this kind of mix-up was entirely avoidable.

But here I was, stuck with no reservation and no way to reach Colton Stone.

My shoulders sagged a bit as I offered my understanding to the girl and spun on my heels to go make a very stern phone call to Stan. He’s lucky I got laid last night because I was feeling generous enough not to fire him.

“Miss Stewartt?” a soft voice called out behind me. I turned toward a long hallway to see a striking woman, likely around my age, striding toward me. Her bleach-blond hair hung straight down her back, and her fitted blazer-and-skirt ensemble hugged her figure in a way that screamed professionalism with a side of glamour.

“That’s me,” I replied, though it came out more like a question as I extended my hand. When she reached me, her grip was firm but warm, and she offered a bright smile.

“My name is Tawnie. I’m Mr. Stone’s personal assistant. He’d be here to greet you himself, but he’s busy handling some other matters before the charity event tonight.”

The elusive Mr. Stone. Too busy to be contacted or to greet me himself. No social media presence, no photos online. It was intriguing and slightly irritating. Oh, ever the mystery. And what kind of person in charge doesn’t have a way to be contacted by their employees?

“It’s lovely to meet you, Tawnie,” I said, tucking my phone back into my purse. “It seems there’s been a bit of a mix-up. My employee didn’t update the reservation, so I wasn’t able to check in.”

“Oh, Stan? No, he definitely called and updated everything. That’s how I knew you’d be the one arriving. It must’ve been an issue on our end. I’m so sorry about that.” She gestured toward my bags. “We have your room ready and waiting for you. You can leave your luggage here—one of the gentlemen will bring it up for you.”

Relieved, I nodded, leaving my suitcase where she indicated but keeping my purse and essentials with me. I fell into step behind her, my heels clicking rhythmically against the cobblestone floor.

“How was your trip?” she asked as we walked. “New York, right?”

“Yes, the Big Apple,” I replied with a soft laugh, matching her pace. She exuded an easy confidence that made her approachable, though her polished demeanor hinted at a no-nonsense attitude. “The trip was smooth, and it’s beautiful here.”

Usually, I’d say that out of politeness, but this time I meant it. Lucky Lake, Montana, was stunning. The sprawling mountains, the endless blue skies—it all captivated me from the moment I stepped onto the tarmac. Between the breathtaking views and…other highlights of my first night here, Montana was shaping up to be unforgettable.

“Lucky Lake is a special place,” Tawnie said with a smile that felt entirely genuine. “I grew up here so I might be biased, but you won’t find better views or friendlier locals anywhere else.”

“So you’re familiar with the area and the people who live here?” The question came out before I could stop myself.